


Riduur

by DanteSunbreaker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Not Proofread, Other, potential trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanteSunbreaker/pseuds/DanteSunbreaker
Summary: Cara tries to get the Mandalorian to share some information about the special person in his life before they arrive at the cantina.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Non-Binary Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/Trans Reader
Kudos: 59





	Riduur

**Author's Note:**

> *Potential Trigger Warning - Cara tries to guess the reader's gender. She does not misgender them once she has been informed*
> 
> So this kind of sucks, so I'm sorry. Also I am not non-binary, so I'm sorry if anything here is a bit uneducated.

“Okay out with it. Who is she?” Cara sits across the table from Din in a dimly lit cantina. One elbow rests on the edge of the table while her other hand pulls a cup of spotchka towards her lips.

“Who?” Din only barely responds to her question, head only just slightly tilting in her direction as his gaze remains trained on the doorway. 

“I know that you have some special feelings towards this contact we are currently waiting on,” there is a pause as she sips from the cup of blue liquid. There is an all too knowing look in her eyes. “Otherwise your visor wouldn’t be glued on that doorway right now.”

Din grunts and gives a shake of his head. Yet he still doesn’t look away.

“They aren’t a she,” the Mandalorian shifts a bit uneasily in his seat, but doesn’t provide any further information. Cara being able to read his behavior so easily gives him a feeling of being exposed.

Instantly Cara’s interest is piqued. With new found excitement, she leans even further across the table so she can watch Din for any subtle clues.

“Alright, so what’s his name then?” she prods further, longing for even just a small scrap of detail about whoever it is that can commands the Mandalorian’s attention in such a way.

Sigh. “They are a he either” the Mandalorian once again corrects. “They are non-binary, they use they,” a sudden tone of protectiveness hints in Din’s modulated voice that has her giving a smile of victory. He just keeps piling on the evidence that whoever they are waiting on is more than just any contact.

“Tell me what they are like then,” Cara again tries to wring more information out of him. “I’d like to know what kind of person we’re meeting up with, what kind of person catches the attention of this Mandalorian.”

Finally, with a defeated groan, Din pulls his gaze away from the doorway and swivels in his seat to face Cara. There is no use resisting at this point.

“They are.. a mandalorian as well,” Din begins rather slowly, as if he isn’t even sure where to begin with describing you. There is so much that he could say, but he didn’t want to give away any more than was necessary to finally satisfy Dune’s curiosity. “We’ve... known each other for awhile now. They were among the few that were able to escape Nevarro before the Imperials attacked the Covert,” his elbows resting on the table as he leans forward. “They are a strong warrior.”

Almost as if on cue, a near silence spreads throughout the cantina. A figure stands in the center of the doorway, blocking the light from streaming in. Every eye in that cantina turns to see as you step into the building. You turn your helmet clad head from side to side slowly and methodically, give the room a brief scan before you lay eyes on Din and the ex-shock trooper sitting at a table. In just a few brief strides you are at the Mandalorian’s side.

“Cyare, sorry I am late. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” your hands are instantly pressing against either side of his helmet, pulling his head towards your own. Tap! The sound of beskar tinging against beskar echoes throughout the room when you rest the forehead of your helmet against your partners’. “There were a few loose ends I had to tie up.”

An even wider grin spreads across Cara Dune’s face as she watches you slowly release Din, only to slide into the seat next to him. Your elbows hit the table as you lean forward to mimic the pose of the Mandalorian at your side. Cara’s eyes don’t miss Din’s subtle shifts so that his shoulder is ever so slightly brushed up against your own. Nor had she missed the way the tension had instantly melted from the Mandalorian the moment your helmets had touched. 

“You must be Cara Dune,” your voice is pleasant as you address the woman sitting across from you. “I’ve heard quite a great deal about you. Also I would like to thank you for keeping my riduur safe out there,” though Cara doesn’t know Manda’o, she easily detects the affectionate way you use the word.

“You would be correct,” Cara takes another sip from her drink, feeling a touch of pride knowing that Din had mentioned her. “Though I unfortunately haven’t had the pleasure to hear much about you. Mando here is usually pretty tight lipped,” that earns a small chuckle from you as you nod in understanding. “But another time perhaps, we should get to business.” 

The three of you sit and talk in the cantina for a long time, meticulously discussing details for the job Din had come asking for assistance with. Cara was the extra muscle for the operation while you provided a great deal of intel seeing as you had been on this planet for a decent amount of time. By the time you have finalized the plan the sky is dark.

“Alright, well it is time for me to head out,” you stand up and look back at the two. “I’ll meet back up with you both a sun up.”

Cara raises her cup in your direction and gives a nod while Din remains seated and watches as you slip out the entrance of the cantina. The walk back to your ship that is nestled safely on the outskirts of town is brief and quiet. All that you hear is the sound of soft footsteps about twenty paces behind you. As you enter your ship, you purposely leave the ramp down. Only a few seconds later you feel a pair of arms slipping around your waist and pulling your back flush against a beskar chest plate.

“I missed you cyare,” Din hums as he rests his helmet against the back of yours, holding you tight in his strong arms. You shift in his arms, turning yourself to face him so that your helmets are once against forehead to forehead.

“I missed you too.”


End file.
